


Just Looking

by Toastybluetwo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastybluetwo/pseuds/Toastybluetwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The eyes are the window to intimacy. Default Femshep/Joker, PWP. No spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Looking

**Author's Note:**

> Yesterday on Tumblr, I kept seeing a gif of a man and a woman having sex, and while doing so, they were staring directly into one another’s eyes. It was the sexiest thing I’d seen in awhile, and so intimate, with this connection in two different ways. That gif inspired this fic.

“Look at me,” Joker whispered.

Shepard tried her best to keep her eyes closed during sex. It was something she’d always done, even when on top of a lover, or sitting in his lap, or letting him on top, as Jeff was, at that very moment. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to deprive herself of sight in a moment so filled with a virtual banquet for the senses. Perhaps she was afraid of the act itself becoming too personal of a thing, even between people who had desired each other for so long. It should have been so natural to simply give him everything.

She caught the plea in his winded voice. It was enough, just enough, to open her eyes.

There he was, above her, with hands planted on either side of her body, pressing against the soft mattress. There he was, staring down at her, searching her face with the same intensity that she had seen so many times at the helm of the Normandy. A mystery had unfolded before those soft and vulnerable blue eyes. Shepard had the silent answer within her all along: _No, it’s not your fault that I can’t give you everything. It’s mine_.

In that moment, which withered in both body heat and shrunk in sweat, she smiled up at him. It was a magnetic moment, one which drew him to smile also – but not a knowing smile, or the many varieties of sarcastic grins that had painted his face over the years. This was a happy smile, one that was grateful that she had done as he asked and as he needed.

Ducking his head down, Jeff touched his nose to hers for a brief moment, pressing there even as he pressed into her. He blinked once, but did not remove his gaze. Her lips parted, hungry for a kiss that never came. Instead, he gave her more than she could have imagined that she would need or want – slow, delicious strokes from within, and eyes that seemed to seek her soul from within her own. She longed to wrap a leg around his waist and push in, to make him thrust harder inside her, but no. This wasn’t just about pleasure.

This was about Jeff and his blue eyes, open and so full of delight and desire all rolled into one, and the soft groans that escaped out of his lips on every gentle urge of his hips. Sliding her fingers over his bearded cheeks, she drew his face to hers again, kissing him fully, dwelling at the warmth of his needful breathing on her lips, on her chin. Each draft of air spread over her skin, sending something akin to electricity through her nerves, over her breasts, through her belly, and down to her damp thighs.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected before this, what kind of lover she had imagined Jeff to be. Perhaps his penchant for foul language and bitter retorts might have pointed to someone that simply took and left, leaving little meaning in the process itself. But this care – the gentle touching, the way that he nuzzled her cheek before returning to gazing at her, directly at her face – it was so incredibly tender and sweet. This was worth it – worth giving him everything. Worth opening her mind and heart for. Worth opening her eyes for.

“Don’t stop,” Jeff groaned in a rumbling voice, the words seeming to catch in his throat.

For a moment, Shepard wondered what she wasn’t supposed to stop doing. Then, all at once, in a realization that gathered in her belly and caused her toes to curl of her own accord, she knew. He liked, no, _needed_ the intimacy of just looking, the connection of full attention. She could be a part of that. She could give that to him. And he could keep doing this, just this, fucking her so gently that it made her want more, want to clench him from within and make each stroke harder to attain.

The reaction was immediate and brought about the Jeff that she had known for six years: “Fuck, you feel so good.”

And there it was. With a featherweight sigh, she smiled again, and told him the truth: “So do you.”

They may have finished several moments later. First Jeff spent himself within her, without removing his gaze, with sweat slick upon his forehead and on his upper lip, which she tasted as she kissed him and he slid his tongue into her mouth. Then, she found herself astonished as his fingers moved to where his hips had been, down through rivulets of sweat and conjuring the thick scent of passion in their wake. They curled into the nest of curls there, stroking fevered, sensitive folds of flesh, and regarding the nub there with an even lighter touch.

“Look at me, Jane,” he whispered softly as his free hand slid beneath her chin, lifting it so that she met his gaze.

The galaxy melted away into a haze of warmth and darkness, and waves spread across her belly, down to her thighs. She heard herself moan something wordless as she rhythmically pressed against his fingers, then released, press, release. A string of syllables meant to be shaped into words of passion and gratitude slid past her lips, and she watched, wide-eyed and curious, as he removed his fingers, then suckled upon them with a wry smile.

She wanted to laugh at the expression on his face, the almost boyish glee of savoring some sort of delicious treat that he had been wanting for awhile, perhaps years. Instead, she kissed him, enjoying the salty, musky taste upon his lips. Then, sitting up for only a moment, she pulled up the duvet and cocooned them both in it.

  
“Guess I’m staying for the night,” said Joker. He slid one of the pillows beneath his head, nestled into it, and reached for her again. This time, he pulled her closer, close enough so that his breathing tickled one of her cheeks.

“Mm, I guess you are.” Shepard joined him on the pillow rather than reaching for the second one.

His fingers brushed her cheek, stroking as the raw, adoring, _adorable_ gaze returned to his eyes. There she remained, and there she stared back, until at last the heaviness of sleep overtook her. And, when she awoke in the morning to find him lying next to her, in the midst of his own night’s rest, she was sure that he had watched her sleep for a long time.


End file.
